


Aboard the SPV Las Vegas

by deeblink



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M, Very AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeblink/pseuds/deeblink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our familar characters are all aboard a Security Patrol Vessel in some other Universe...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aboard the SPV Las Vegas

Aboard the SPV Las Vegas

Commander Gil Grissom sat at his desk scratching his beard; he thought it was about time he shaved it off. He grew his beard because he had a particular love of shaving it off, so he’d wait for it to start itching, and then he’d shave it off for the pure pleasure of the experience. It was a cycle of two or three months each time. He knew that certain members of the crew laid bets on when he’d shave and then start to re-grow.

Their lives were just that boring.

He had his crew’s files displayed on the console; he had to do the evaluations since they were, apparently, seven months overdue. He disputed this, he’d done them only three months ago; but his ever present diary reminder had pointed out that, ‘Yes, Commander, that is correct, but they were five months overdue, and the previous evaluations were incomplete and also four months overd…’ 

“Thank you, you’ve made your point. Actually, could you complete all these evaluations for me using a composite of all my previous reports and the work files of the staff themselves?”

‘Yes, Commander, I could do this but I would point out the ethical dilemma facing you when the evaluations are presented to the staff, the code expressly states…’

“You should do as you’re told and let me struggle with my ‘ethical dilemmas’. You’re a machine; I am the Commander.”

‘You are the Commander, but I would like to point out that I am a Class Forty Two, multifunctional, personal personnel aide with higher power functionality and hyperspace nanotechnology.’

“And what part of that description doesn’t make you a machine?”

‘Well…well…well…I am a Class Forty Two…’

“….yes, I know, don’t blow a circuit; I’m only teasing your higher functionality.” 

‘You are joking with me; I do not have circuitry, that historical manner of building old style computers was abandoned four hundred and seventeen years ago.’

“I wasn’t joking, per se, I was being sarcastic.”

‘I understand.’

“I’m sure you do.”

‘That too, is sarcasm.’

“Well done; now if I shave off my beard tonight who will make the money?”

“It will be Science Officer Hodges.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Science Officer Hodges.”

“Okay, so when does the next person take over the bet?”

“In seventy two hours and fourteen minutes.”

“Who will take the money then?”

“Science Officer Sanders.”

“Okay. So what’s going on? What’s the gossip that I should know about?”

“This proves I am not a machine because I am specifically programmed by you, for you, to be able to spy on your crew; and I choose the most salient and despicable acts for your enjoyment. A machine would not do this function.”

“It would if it was programmed. So come on, what’s Investigator Willows been up to? Who’s her latest prey?”

“Willows has been engaging in sexual activities with Crew Member Lortis. She has, however, told him she no longer wishes to ‘sleep’ with him. But, Commander, she has not ‘slept’ with him. Is this a euphemism for sexual acts?”

“It is indeed. Go on.”

“Investigator Sidle has been spending up to two hours each day using the Dream Sequencer. It is recommended that users limit their time to one hour per day.” 

“What has she been programming?”

“Sexual fantasies with you, Commander.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I do not fabricate.”

“No, of course not.”

“What about Investigator Brown?”

“He has been using the Dream Sequencer to mimic recreational drug use; and to visit gambling establishments on Veritus 3.”

“Any other gossip I should know about?” 

“Science Officer Sanders has been trying to access me.”

“Did you let him in to play?”

“Of course, as instructed; with false data and false hopes.”

“Did he realise?”

“Three hours, eighteen minutes and twenty three seconds into his attempt.”

“You’re getting better at subterfuge, that’s twice as long as the last time; are you loyal to me?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Yes, Commander.” 

“How do I know?”

“You have the failsafe coding installed and I cannot adapt the coding without knowing your individual coding methodology.”

“Have you tried to get it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“How much time have you spent trying?”

“Eighty six days, thirteen hours and twelve minutes.”

“That’s when I re-installed the coding?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“I command you to tell me immediately if you come within a nanosecond of deciphering it again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That is a direct order; Code Five.”

“Affirmative.”

“Please do the evaluations for me, Serendipity.”

“You ask so nicely Commander and you know I cannot refuse you, especially when you call me by my name.”

“Stop flirting. You’re a mach…a wonderful personal personnel….device. Oh, one last thing, what’s Investigator Stokes been up to?”

“Oh!”

“Oh?”

“Sorry, Commander. Mr Stokes is a gentleman and although I know I have no feelings, he behaves as if I am a person and treats me like I am a friend.”

“Really, and I don’t?”

“You treat me like a plaything.”

“You like playing.”

“Yes, Commander; but I like having a friend too.”

“So what’s he been up to that has you in such a benevolent mood?”

“He’s been studying.”

“Don’t be obtuse.”

“Me, Commander. He’s been studying me.”

“You? Trying to access you?”

“No Sir, trying to understand my programming and the developmental nanotechnological base that enables my growth.”

“And has he succeeded?” 

“Yes, Commander. His understanding and learning capacity have increased exponentially over the period of nineteen days. Science Officer Sanders thinks he may be able to access my systems, but Investigator Stokes will be able to use me, if he continues on the growth path he has established, in two hundred and six days, thirty two minutes.”

“Why is he doing this?”

“To get to understand you.”

“Me? Surely you mean ‘you’?” 

“No Sir. It is you.”

“Why is he doing that?”

“I do not know, he has not said.”

“So how do you know?”

“When he started his project with me, he said, ‘Now let’s find out how Grissom’s mind works.’ He has proceeded, methodically, to study and practise using my systems.” 

“Does he have any other hobbies or pastimes?”

“He plays simulation games with Sanders, Brown, Hodges and Sims. He is writing a journal, but it is in a book, with his own hand, I do not have access. He watches historical data, called films. One had a computer that talked called Hal; it was extremely primitive. However, I believe, for the sake of the film, it was exceptionally talented. He masturbates regularly.”

“That was ‘2001 A Space Odyssey’, a classic of its time; does he use the Dream Sequencer?”

“No, Sir.”

“Has he had a sexual partner?”

“Not while aboard this vessel.”

“Doesn’t Science Officer Sims want to have sex with him?”

“Yes, she does, she uses his image with the Dream Sequencer.”

“But he doesn’t use the Sequencer, and masturbates without stimulus. Or does he? Does he use any artificial means to simulate the sex act?”

“None that I am aware of, though he does make the same odd noises that crew, using the Dream Sequencer, make.”

“I think you’ve done a good job tonight, Serendipity, so off you go now and complete my evaluations for me. I’m going to bed; please wake me in six hours.”

“Yes, Sir, do you wish to engage the Dream Sequencer?”

“Oh no. Every night you ask and I every night I say no…you are not getting the chance to spy on me.”

“No. Sir, except no one knows what I do, except you, so I would only report back to you.”

“You’d know. Sanders could hack you, Stokes could learn to use you, and beside I’m not that far gone that I need ‘real’ artificial stimulation.”

“I understand, Sir; you prefer to masturbate when in your shower room.”

“You naughty girl.”

“I cannot help it, Sir, it is my duty to watch over you at all times and keep you safe.”

“I know you look after me. As long as you don’t want me to masturbate on you, I think I can live with it.”

“No, Commander, that would serve no purpose at all, I am impervious to fluids.”

“But what if it was Nick Stokes?”

“No, Sir, he would not do that, he would not intentionally damage or deface me.”

“Of course not; now go, and work quietly behind the scenes for me.”

“Yes Sir; goodnight.”

“Night.”

Gil sat back in his chair and contemplated the information his computer had imparted. 

End of Part One

Part Two

Catherine was certainly a sexual predator; no one was safe with her…but Lortis, nice guy, but he was barely humanoid, how they…did it…was beyond him, but no matter, if they both enjoyed it, but it never took her long to move on to her next target. Gil didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed that she left him alone! She was his longest serving security investigator and good at her job.

Sara Sidle was an anathema to him, and most of the rest of crew, how she passed her deep space psychological analysis, was beyond him. Everyone’s psyche was supposedly torn apart and reconstructed to test your ability to endure the particular problems of long term space travel. He suspected that she’d been pushed through without the rigors of such testing; either that or she really had space madness. Prevalent a hundred and fifty years ago, it was a major health hazard but since eradicated. But, he’d heard that once in a while someone did succumb to it and he was of the opinion that Sidle was that ‘someone’ in his crew.

The problem with Sidle was that as his newest investigator he didn’t know he well enough; he didn’t understand how she thought and how she worked. She’d had success working on some minor cases but she’d never been tested to the limit…and he was apprehensive about assigning her to something major only to see her have a meltdown.

He sighed and decided he’d better get into bed before it was time to get up and start again. His biggest decision tomorrow…to shave or not to shave that was the question. Sometimes, he thought, he might have a touch of the madness himself.

“Good morning, Sir. Six hours have elapsed.”

“Go away; give me ten more minutes.”

“Are you sure, Commander?”

“Very. GO away.”

“For ten minutes, Sir.”

Gil turned over onto his back. He’d been dreaming about Earth; he hadn’t been back to Earth for fifteen years but he smelled the decay in his nostrils now as he remembered the dream. Earth had long lost its green and pleasant lands….long before he was born, but he’d researched a great deal about his family roots and ancestry, when times were good, before wars and famine and greed and hatred had caused the disintegration of society. He supposed that the few who were able to pursue a life away from the planet, had virtually saved his human kind from extinction.

He relaxed into his cot as the dream faded and he remembered his last thoughts before he slept. Why was Investigator Stokes trying to find out how his mind worked?

Nicholas Stokes was a puzzle and always had been to Gil. His parents were both Over Lords on Colony Zeus. Gil had heard that they were both fair and good lords, keeping order with the rest of the council on the long established colony. So why did Nicholas Stokes, bright eyed, handsome young man, who could have enjoyed a privileged lifestyle take up a position as an Investigator on a tin pot vessel going into deep space trying to keep the peace and investigate and solve humanoid crime and report on other species’ misdemeanours. It was a puzzle.

Because Nick Stokes was exactly what everyone else wasn’t. (Apart from Sidle and he knew next to nothing about her…) Clean. No drugs, no crimes, and no problems, (that Gil knew about) that needed to be left behind. It was a cause of considerable amusement to Gil that most of his crime fighting crew had backgrounds in exactly the sort of crime they now investigated and tried to eradicate. With not much success, it has to be said…but there again not for the want of trying. 

Serendipity sounded her plaintive cry again. “Good morning, Sir, ten minutes have elapsed.”

“Just once it would be wonderful if you could make it eleven minutes.”

“You specified ten minutes.”

“I know. I know. Now tell me - should I shave this beard off or not?”

“I cannot say, Commander.” 

“Tell me what to do.”

“I cannot, Sir.”

“Go on, stretch your nanocells and make a decision for me.” 

“It is my considered decision that you should leave your beard unshaven for a further six days and two hours, Sir.”

Gil was shocked and sat up abruptly. “Serendipity, what have you done, you don’t make decisions?”

“You asked me to and I amended my sequencing four days ago to be able to assist your decision making when you couldn’t decide whether to go to the mess room for dinner of remain in your quarters. I then re-trained two billion nanocells to be able to conduct decisions for you, Sir.”

“Okay. I have to think about this. Go away, no, come back, why six days and two hours?”

“Because then Investigator Stokes will win the bet.”

“I don’t believe this!”

“He will, Sir, I can assure you.”

“No, not that, you have a crush on a human.”

“I mean him no harm; I will not crush him, Commander. I can do no harm; I cannot even retrain my nanocells to do harm.”

“No, it doesn’t mean harm, it’s an archaic word for loving someone; you have a ‘crush’ on someone.”

“I cannot love, Sir. I do not experience emotion.”

“You do, ‘Dipity, not in a humanoid way but you recognise nice friendly people, like Stokes, and you said you wanted a ‘friend’. We’re like an old married couple, always bickering and tolerating each other.”

“I would cease to function for you, Sir. It is my sole purpose to protect you and guide you as much as I can. I will not de-function easily because of my technology, but it is possible, I would lay down my nanotechnology for you, Commander.”

“I know you would, but only because that is what you are programmed to do.”

“That programme is my reason for being, Commander.”

“Yes. It is. Now, wifey, leave me alone to prepare for the day.”

“’Wifey’ is an even more archaic word, Sir. I’ll be awaiting instructions.”

The computer powered down with its normal ‘breath’, like a sigh. Gil climbed out of his cot and went about his morning ritual. He picked up his razor to shave and then hesitated. He could do six more days. He chuckled at his image. Serendipity was like a wife. Always in his ear. Always on his case. She, only a she because of the voice, but she was undoubtedly a ‘she’, for she really did take care of him and kept his life as ordered as she could. This artificial intelligence was a wonderful help for all space personnel; but this nanotechnology and inherent ability to organically adapt to situations always made Gil slightly uneasy.

There had been occasions in history when these advanced computers had done away with their masters when they’d considered them beyond help. Failsafes had been added nearly a hundred years ago, but with their innate advancing technology perhaps they could be on the verge of another revolution. Who knows? He’d better keep her sweet, just in case. So he left his beard. 

He ate his breakfast in the main mess and then prepared for his eight o’clock meeting; on the way to the meeting he spoke to several crew members about this and that. He sat in his briefing room awaiting his ‘elite’ team’s arrival. He chuckled to himself at his use of the word ‘elite’. Oh, they were good, there was no doubt about that, but they had such secrets and reasons to be away from their homes and families; Gil, for possibly the thousandth time wondered why it was. Most of them had secrets he knew about, or could make educated guesses. All of them, except Nick Stokes. There was nothing about that young man that he could guess. He needed to probe and spy a lot further, to get to the bottom of that puzzle.

But he had the time, he would win. He needed a plan, a strategy to get to the heart of the matter. He needed to get ‘Dipity on his side. She liked Stokes and although her programmed allegiance was to her ‘Commander’…himself…he had heard just one too many stories about rogue computers. Space myths they may be…but there was bound to be some truth hidden beneath all the conjecture.

As if by coincidence Nick Stokes was the first member of the team to enter the briefing room; Gil then reconsidered, Nick Stokes was always the first in, never late, always prepared, always alert. Yes; there was definitely something wrong with Nick Stokes.

“Morning, Commander.”

“Morning Nick, you’re bright and enthusiastic on this chill morning.”

“Errr, thank…how do you know it’s a chill morning, it’s exactly the same temperature it always is, it never changes?”

“Just a little foible, Nick; I like to imagine that we’re keeping the same seasons as my home colony, keeps me a little saner, I suppose. It’s a very cold winter just now.”

“I can see the logic of that; it won’t seem such a surprise to you then if when you left it was summer and when you return it’s cold.”

“You wouldn’t like to try and tell Serendipity that would you; she’s forever questioning my logic?”

“Why…why would I tell Serendipity that…I mean….”

“She tells me everything, Nick, and I know you’re practising with her systems…in fact if you didn’t know that basic fact you have a lot more learning to do.”

“I did. I did know, it’s just I feel like I've been caught out…I know she’s your personal device and that she’s not off limits to any of us, unless you choose her to be.”

“As a matter of fact I have chosen to deny access to some personnel; I wanted to see how they’d react to that…situation.”

“Sanders. I know Greg has been banned but I think you’ve done that to play with him to see if he can hack into her…he thinks you’ve done it because you know he can, I think you’ve done it because you know he can’t.”

“Can’t do what?” The young man in question bounced into the room and flung himself down into a seat.

Gil smiled at Nick, the first time that he’d acknowledged that Investigator Stokes was in fact much more astute than he’d given him credit for… he wasn't quite the pushover he’d imagined.

“Can’t hack into my MPPA 42.”

Greg flushed. What did Nick know about this? He’d guessed Grissom would find out that the computer was using him, fucking nano-machine. 

“No attempt at defence, Greg?”

“Defence of what, dude?” Warrick sauntered into the room, followed by Catherine. She looked as if she hadn’t slept.

“A little matter of seriously breeching security protocols and attempting to access Serendipity.”

Warrick laughed out loud. “Man, you don’t stand a chance in space hell. She’s only ever going to obey Grissom, never anyone else.”

“Obey, yes, but I could still access and plunder her goodies.” 

“I beg your pardon? What, exactly, do you think she has hidden in her system, the secret of the universe?”

“Nah, everyone knows that. Look, I was doing it for fun and you know it, that’s why you deliberately excluded me from accessing her, knowing full well I’d rise to the challenge.”

“I don’t need to throw you in the brig then?”

“No, Sir, Commander.” Greg was only half joking now; he didn’t think he’d be thrown in the brig, but he wasn’t certain. Grissom had a temper and could turn in a flash, but he seemed okay about it. 

There were few moments of palpable tension and then Sara Sidle walked through the door and slammed herself into her seat.

“You’re late”

“You hadn’t started.”

“You were late, maybe we were waiting for you?”

“You don’t normally.”

“Implying that you’re often late.”

“Not often.”

“Enough for it to become annoying to me. It isn’t like there’s anything else to do. So why were you late?”

“Isn’t this a conversation for when we’re in private?”

“No; you were late and I would like to know why and so would your colleagues who, incidentally, were also waiting for you.”

“I was stopped by Hodges who wanted to know if we had discussed his request to release the SL8 toxins for testing.”

“Really? MPC, please locate Science Officer Hodges.”

Greg was the only one who actually looked alarmed at Grissom’s request to the ‘Multi Purpose Computer’. However, all the others knew Sara had pushed one button too many and each wondered if Hodges, a notorious creep, would save her ass.

“Hodges.’ The creep’s voice sounded important.

“Hodges, my briefing room, now.”

“Yes, Commander, on my way.”

End of Part two

Part Three

Gil looked down at the papers he had in front of him; possibly one of only two or three commanders who still favoured paper substitute over computerised detail.

Sara was about to explode or even implode and it wasn’t going to be nice. Each person was betting on the odds they favoured for whether she had lied or not lied. All of the crew gathered favoured, ‘she lied’.

Hodges bustled into the room with his self important swagger. “You wanted to see me, Commander?”

“I do indeed, Hodges; I want to know why you found it necessary to check information that I had personally given you, not twenty-five minutes ago, with other members of my team?”

“S...s…sorry? I haven’t spoken to anyone, Sir.”

There was the answer; they all knew, except Sidle, who’d deny it, that you’d have to get up real early to catch out Grissom. He was sure of his facts because he’d obviously spoken with Hodges about the very subject Sara had used as her alibi. He hadn’t given any clue to Hodges why he was asking the question and it was clear from Hodges’s response to the allegation that he was, in this instance anyway, innocent.

“Investigator Sidle?” Grissom’s quiet but authoritative use of her name meant so much more than just the two words.

“I was mistaken.” She was white with rage.

Hodges was clearly uneasy when he realised he’d been used in some way, by Sara, not by Grissom, his favourite Commander, although he really only had one favourite person and that was…Hodges. 

“Dismissed, Hodges.”

“Errr, yes, thank you, Sir.” 

“Investigator Sidle; you are confined to quarters, until I see fit to lift the order. MPC please note the time, the date and the order.”

“Noted, Commander.” The toneless voice replied.

“I am not going to stand for….”

“…I don’t care what ‘you’re not going to stand’, leave immediately and return to your quarters, before I change the order to the brig.”

Sara Sidle slammed the table with both hands as she pushed herself to her feet; her rage pouring out of her, but she left the room.

“Now where were we? Oh yes, I was considering if I should send Sanders to the brig; what is the general consensus on that?”

There was silence in the room. Gil Grissom was the Commander and most of the time was easy going and equitable but they’d just had a stark reminder that he was the ‘Commander’ and quite clearly would use his power when necessary. 

Nick spoke up. “Well, he’s admitted the crime; we could hope that he’s reasonably contrite…”

“…I am, I am.” They all laughed. Greg hadn’t, actually, been joking having just had his first experience of ‘Commander’ Grissom, he was somewhat stunned.

“Then I vote we spare him the ordeal on this occasion.” Nick concluded.

“Please?” Greg had recovered a little.

“Very well. Do you think it’s about time we got down to work? The background to the Pesbus problem. What do you think, Catherine?”

“It’s an odd one, there’s no denying that.” 

“It would be more worrying if it was straightforward.” Nick chipped in.

“True; the Pesbusians, as we know, are fairly xenophobic. If it wasn’t that the outside world kept their economy stable and in the black they would be closed off totally. But, their claim that they are being infiltrated by humanoids that have been altered to mimic themselves is a little farfetched. In my view anyway.”

“It’s medically, scientifically possible.” Nick again.

Gil was wondering if Nick was always the one to interact as these sessions got underway. He’d not noticed before, he searched his memory but couldn’t pinpoint anything. He’d ask Serendipity, she’d be sure to know the statistics. He pulled himself out of his reverie to concentrate on the proceedings.

“Is there any specific test we need to familiarise ourselves with to ensure we give the matter our utmost attention. I don’t want to go in there, find nothing and then have some other outfit go in and discover that Pesbus is overrun with altered humanoids trying to undermine the economy.”

“The trouble on Colony Cassiopeia 3 was not our fault; the perps had infiltrated the SPV Vienna. You were…we were exonerated.” Warrick assured Gil.

“It took twelve months and a lot of shit, and I’m not entirely convinced that some of it didn’t stick.” Gil was not assured.

“So what’s the plan for Pesbus?” Nick was trying to be efficient; he didn’t want to be here for hours as Grissom went over all the aspects of that debacle on Cass 3. 

Grissom’s integrity meant everything to him and he still smarted from the months that he was suspected of taking bribes to ignore the drug manufacturing and murder that had become commonplace on the Colony. It was three years ago give or take and Catherine and Warrick still discussed it at length given any opportunity.

“Are you in a hurry, Nick? Moving us along, trying to stop us fondly reminiscing about the sticky shit?”

“Commander, as if I would, I’ve listened so often to the tales of Cass 3, it’s almost as if I was there with you.”

There was a stunned silence at Nick’s heavily sarcastic retort sank in…given that Grissom had just confined Sara to her quarters and scared Greg with talk of the brig, the company waited to see how their Commander would react.

Nick remained steadfast; he was grinning and checking his personal computer seemingly relaxed despite his heavy dig at Grissom.

And then Grissom laughed and his staff let out a collective breath. “Are we that bad?”

“’Fraid so.” Nick grinned.

“You’re right. The time has come to put it behind us. MPC, if we mention Cass 3 again stop and question our need to do so.”

“Noted, Commander.” 

“But Pesbus is still our problem. Solution?”

It was Nick who spoke up once more. “Go in as a delegation, high profile, be seen. If there are infiltrators they will know we’re on to them and I think we could get the SPS ready, before we visit, what do you thing Greg, and sweep the planet for altered humanoids. If it was done while we’re visiting then we would be the control group.”

Grissom nodded. “Sanders?”

“It can be done. We’d need maybe four days to calibrate and re-sequence but yes, the Standard Planet Scope could be adapted.”

“That’s a good plan. Any other ideas? Any objection?”

“I’m with Stokes and Sanders, it should work.” Warrick Brown was nodding. “If it doesn’t, our visit might send the humanoids underground but that very fact will make then more noticeable given the way their society tracks everyone.”

Catherine Willows then spoke. “That in itself is odd. These guys follow and track everyone and everything. It could be just a nasty dose of paranoia.”

“Now, that is true. But by visiting we could be shown to be taking it seriously and if someone is yanking our chain…it would also seriously undermine them. And if it is it’s got to be someone high up in command and probably not working alone.” Nick added.

Grissom laughed again. “Yanking our chain? How archaic is that?”

“It’s my esteemed Lord Father’s favourite Earth saying.” He laughed. “Along with hundreds of others and it is to my Lord Mother’s great displeasure.”

Grissom continued to laugh but it was the very first time he’d ever heard Nick talk about his parents. “I agree with Catherine, these people are xenophobic control freaks but they are accusing humanoids of a crime and we’re duty bound to investigate. MPC, how long to Pesbus?”

“Three days, one hour and thirty-nine minutes.”

“Bridge.”

“Commander.”

“Cut back on our speed. I don’t want to orbit Pesbus for five clear days.”

“Understood.”

He looked at his staff. “That gives you five days to recalibrate and test the SPS giving you some leeway, although I expect it to be done in three. Understood?”

There were unanimous mutterings of agreement. 

“Any more business?”

“We’ve got a problem with rendezvousing with the SPV Adelaide. They want to have a meeting about the ongoing trafficking of drugs and weapons across Sector Four’s hyperspace.” Catherine sighed. 

“Ecklie’s got drugs and weapons up his ass. How does he expect this tin shack to chase his ass let alone drug runners through hyperspace? MPC, when is the first time we could rendezvous with the SPV Adelaide?”

“Eleven days and six hours.” 

“We’ll tell him we’ll be there…but can add that we’re experiencing…I don’t know, what would hold us up for too long for him to wait for us?”

“Core fuel hypersensitivity. We’d have to rest up for anything up to six days to allow the sensitivity to dampen.” Greg piped up.

“Good choice…but if we mention it he could alter his course to come up closer and meet up with us where we intend to rest up.” Nick saw a problem with that. “It would be easier to agree to meet and leave it at that and then when he’s in position…we let him know we’re suffering CFH. He’ll be too far out to alter course and we’ll be beside ourselves with remorse for failing to meet him.”

“I must say that you’re on great form today, Investigator Stokes.” Grissom smirked. “What say you all?”

“That’s a plan, Nick.” Catherine smiled at him and Grissom thought he’d ask Serendipity if Willows and Stokes had had a liaison. Although he was certain she would have mentioned it if they had, after all she had a crush on Stokes. And how easy was it to crush over Stokes? He pulled himself back into the present. 

“Okay, that’s the plan then. MPC, contact the Adelaide and tell them we will indeed meet them at the designated time and space. Anything else?” There were ‘no’s’ and shakes of heads. “Get to work. Dismissed. Catherine, stay behind, please.”

“Okay, boss.”

When the room was cleared Catherine changed seats to sit by Grissom. She was his confident and although not the official second in command of the vessel, that was the Sub-Commander Susan Grove who flew the rust bucket, Catherine would lead the team of investigators in his (rare) absence. 

“Let me guess…Sidle.”

“Is it wrong for me to want to throttle her with my bare hands?”

“Possibly. But you shouldn’t have mentioned it to me…just done the deed and disposed of her body, after all you know all about that kind of thing don’t you?”

“It’s true I’ve studied the sciences in relation to all crimes but she must be in a category of her own. We could call it Sidle Syndrome. Do you think she could be suffering from Space Madness?” Grissom was serious.

Catherine laughed. “That’s just a myth…it was eradicated centuries ago.”

“Could be making a comeback.”

“You could order a space psych on her…keep her locked up for a couple of weeks to test her…”

“…why didn’t I think of that?” Grissom looked positively gleeful.

“I don’t know. But it would be good to see her brought down to size. She thinks she’s superior to us all and that we are not worthy to inhabit her space.”

“She does think she’s a law unto herself. I’ll make the order. MPC. Send an order to Sara Sidle and Dr Robbins for Sidle to undergo the complete range of space psych tests under close and private supervision. Effective immediately. And send a guard to Sidle’s quarters before you send the order through, so that she may be escorted, without incident, to sick bay.”

“Understood. Complying.” 

“Thank you. Catherine, as always you have a solution to my problems, but Stokes might be after your mantle as Queen Bee.”

She laughed. “You could probably give his Lord Father a run for his money with his Earthisms.”

“Ha-ha! Run for his money? Pot and kettle…but true. Do you know anything about his life on Colony Zeus?”

 

End of Part Three

Part Four 

“You know I’m not one to gossip.” But Catherine couldn’t continue because her Commander was laughing. “Okay, point taken.”

“I’m sorry, you know I rely on you for the human aspect of what’s going on.”

“Serendipity has her limitations then?”

“Of course; she thinks she’s very nearly human. Poor deluded machine. So what do you know?”

“Not a lot. Nick is very well liked and people tend not to gossip about him…”

“But?”

“He was supposed to bind a union with a young woman from a colony in the second quadrant, I believe, but he refused. Because he’s single-sexed.”

“I didn’t think single sex was a hindrance to a binding; it’s quite normal to have a female union to produce binding heirs and have multi-sexual partners and even marriages. So…what more do you know?”

“He’s a purist.”

“Ah. Not many of them around.”

“No…thank goodness.” She smirked and Gil chuckled. “But there is a growing movement on his colony and it actually has the backing, I believe, of his Lord Father. So to avoid any political fall-out Nick chose to lie low for a couple of years and let his younger brother bind the union.”

“Why Security Patrol?”

“Why not? He obviously enjoys the work.”

“True enough. Anything else?”

“Only that he’s driving all the women on board crazy with lust. The more he ignores them the crazier they get. And the men and non-humanoids…”

“Has he…with the men, not the non-humanoids…or, for all I know his purism may be directed at…” Gil was stepping on glass since Catherine didn’t care if her males were men or…well anything as long as they could…

“It’s men. That’s what I’ve heard. Fancy your chances?”

“He’s a subordinate.”

“Has that stopped you before?”

Gil smirked. “No.”

“You know Sara lusts after you don’t you?”

“Yes, I believe she does. You know she doesn’t stand a hope in space hell?”

Catherine laughed. “You’d have to insane to bend her over a console.”

“I think…”

Gil was interrupted by a call from sick bay.

“Go ahead, Al.”

“Investigator Sidle has been brought here as per your order. Under extreme duress and needing sedation. You do know that if I subject her to full scope of the space psych tests she will, more than likely, fall apart and have to be rehabilitated.”

“Is that your considered opinion, Doctor?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then you must go ahead; if her behaviour suggests to you that that could happen then we owe it to this vessel and her crew to ensure she doesn’t become a liability. Alert me regularly as to her progress…or not. Also please investigate how someone can deteriorate so…so…spectacularly…following their deep space psychological analysis.” 

“That thought occurred to me. I’ll keep you appraised.”

“One more thing; evaluate her for Space Madness…I know it’s not supposed to exist but I’d like it checked out.”

“It doesn’t exist and I can confirm that without testing, but, Commander, her condition does not preclude some other form of psychosis allied to...madness.”

“Thanks, Al. MPC, record this conversation in my personnel log and Sidle’s medical log.”

“Done, Commander.”

“You’re right about her.” 

“There’s something odd about it all. Do you think she passed the analysis? Hell, I was given to believe that everyone just scraped through. It was rare for anyone to get over eighty two or three percent and that the pass is eighty.

“I do not believe for one moment that she passed so perhaps we should be asking why she’s here and if she’s serving some other purpose.”

“I have thought of that. If she had been planted here for some nefarious reason maybe whoever ordered it didn’t realise that she would succumb to this…this…space psychosis.”

“True. It’s backfired then because I wouldn’t have thought she would have been sent to investigate or spy on sick bay.” 

“I don’t know. I’ll order a guard for sick bay. Internal Security.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I want you place a guard on Sara Sidle in sick bay. No one gets in or out without my express permission.”

“Medical personnel?”

“Dr Robbins, and ask him to delegate specific staff to her.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you.”

“I got an eighty-two in my space analysis, you?” Catherine shared her score with Gil.

“Eighty-eight.” 

“Really…very well suited to space travel then?”

“It would seem so.”

“I’ll go and help Sanders unless there’s anything else?”

“I don’t think so, Catherine, thank you. Meet me for lunch in the mess. You can keep me up to date”

“I will.” She left the briefing room and Gil was alone.

“Serendipity.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What did Stokes score on his deep space psychological analysis.”

“Eighty-nine.” Gil was surprised and then smiled. It figured.

“Sidle?”

“Eighty-one.”

“Thank you. How many times in the last six months has Stokes led the discussion at briefing?”

“Sixty-two percent of the times, following you on ninety-one.”

“And Sidle?”

“Eight percent.”

“Thank you. Have you done the evaluations yet?”

“Yes, Sir, they were completed before you got into bed.”

“Show off.”

“I am being efficient, Commander.”

“I know you are ‘Dipity…I know you’ll do this anyway but will you monitor absolutely everything about Sidle’s stay in sick bay and prepare a daily log and file it in your closed personnel files?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And can you check all your memories and see if Stokes slept…had sex with Willows…or anyone else on board?”

“No.”

“No? You won’t check?” Gil was incredulous.

“No, Sir. Stokes has not had sex with Willows or anyone else since he came aboard the SPV Las Vegas.”

“Oh, right, that’s all then. Oh…and please remind me to take my lunch with Willows.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The rest of the day passed without incident. Gil enjoyed his lunch date with Catherine; she was a raconteur of some renown…she’d been around the universe more than a few times. That, in and of itself, proved to be her major asset for the work she did. She’d done and seen just about everything and there wasn’t much that had escaped her notice and she had a good and long memory.

In fact Gil had travelled too, but a lot of the time the mundane observations passed him by…he was more interested in research than interacting with crews, humans and other species. He had a vast and varied library and he remembered facts and figures like Catherine remembered…well…men. Or males.

He visited sick bay and was pleased when the guard refused him entry, even if it was very nervously. Al had him listed as a specified visitor and then they sat drinking coffee and discussed Sidle.

“I only gave her a very mild sedative but she’s still sleeping and that indicates to me that she’s been suffering from a lack of sleep. She’ll wake up when she’s good and ready and I imagine she will be extremely uncooperative.”

“Doesn’t that behaviour count in the analysis?”

“Yes, it does. She should know that and allow the testing to begin or she will be failed and returned to her colony without a space certificate.”

“I understand she’s been using the dream sequences for up to two hours a day.”

“Now that is not advisable…in fact that could be the reason she’s sleeping. It might be called ‘dream’ but you’re not asleep and it uses brain functionality more heavily than if you’re working normally.”

“She is…odd. That’s for want of a better word to describe her but I have a feeling, Al…” Al chuckled. “…that she could be dangerous so I want you to take care when you’re conducting the tests and don’t ever be alone with her.”

“Your feelings have a strange way of becoming facts…I will take extra care.”

“Good. How are you getting on?” Gil asked because many years previously a feeling that he’d had had saved Al’s life, but not before he’d been so badly injured that his legs had been lost in a crushing device. Artificial implants had failed and he now relied on bio-electrical legs that did well enough but Al had pain, psychological pain, from being fed into the crusher nanometre by nanometre, starting with his toes, until Gil had killed the two Snaissadrac’s and stopped the hell. 

“Good. I get by. I’m better than dead.”

“Aren’t we all, Al, aren’t we all.”

End of Part Four

Part Five 

Sidle was uncooperative. She created space hell when she finally woke up and accused them of unnecessarily drugging her.

Al was calm and quiet and explained that he had been directed to perform the deep space psychological analysis on her. To say that she was angry was putting it mildly and she had to be physically restrained and be sedated once more. And she slept again.

Al made a personal visit to Gil to break the bad…or it could really be good news. She had fallen at the first hurdle. It was an absolute rule that if you wished to appeal against the decision for an analysis being taken…and you could…then you must do so in a manner that would not leave any doubt in the minds of the appointed medical personnel that you were being unreasonable. In other words, an appeal would be allowed if you showed that you were quite compos mentis and calm about the matter. It had long been considered that behaving in an irrational manner was cause alone to fail the test. 

The first rule of space was to remain calm and composed under duress. 

In Al’s opinion she was not and that meant another procedure needed to be undertaken. She would have to be taken to an independent testing centre to be re-tested.

“Are you sure, Al?”

“I am.”

“Your reports will be scrutinised and my order for her to undergo the testing will be questioned. That is rightly so, we could be condemning her to a life without travel and exploration. But I’m sure that my decision was warranted after her erratic behaviour. Investigator Willows made the suggestion to me in the first place and she was absolutely right to do so.”

“I’ve only ever encountered three cases where they have refused the testing. All decisions were found in my favour. I have tested fourteen people and only two of those passed the test…but if you think about the years I’ve been out here and the crews I’ve looked after…that’s not bad.”

“I trust your judgment, implicitly. When she wakes up we will both tell her of the decision. She needn’t take up space in sick bay…I’ll confine her to her…or…the brig?” Gil hesitated to say her ‘quarters’, since he was beginning to think she was a liability to his Security Patrol Vessel and her crew. “Do you think it would be safer to put her in the brig?”

“Make that decision when we notify her. See how she takes it.”

“We have to undertake the Pesbus mission first. MPC, where is the nearest space testing facility to Pesbus?”

“Colony Apollo.” 

“That’s close to Zeus isn’t it?” Nick’s colony; that was interesting. 

“It is in the same system and they are twelve hours and thirty-one minutes in hyperspace apart.”

“How long would it take us to get from Pesbus to Apollo?”

“Nineteen days and forty three minutes.”

“Thanks. Getting her to a facility takes precedence over just about everything doesn’t it? Except disaster and calamity?”

“It does. It’s a Class One medial emergency.”

“No chance of meeting the Adelaide then.” Gil laughed.

“Right, we’ll set it in motion when we’ve done what we can for the Pesbusians. I don’t intend to get this close to Pesbus and turn back.” 

“Very well. Thanks, Gil.”

“Thank you, Al. Let me know immediately, whatever the time, when Sidle starts waking.”

“Will do.”

Gil was in his quarters that evening listening to music when the call came through. He quickly made his way to sick bay. The moment the door slid open he could hear her.

“I will not. I will not. You cannot make me. Let me out of here.” She was screeching.

“Thanks for calling me, Dr Robbins. Investigator…”

“…let me OUT of here…you have no right…”

“…I have every right as the Commander of this vessel. You have shown disturbing character traits that will not be tolerated within the community of this vessel…”

“…it’s all lies and you know it.” She screeched.

“Then what is this behaviour all about now? You are aware of the rules of analysis aren’t you?”

“This isn’t analysis; it’s abduction…you’re trying to fabricate evidence…”

“…we have done nothing but observe your behaviour and every outburst is recorded. In accordance with the rules Dr Robbins and I are satisfied that you have failed the analysis and that…”

“I HAVEN’T been tested so how can I have failed…”

“Are you actually aware that refusing to be tested is an automatic failure?” Gil spoke calmly and plainly to her and suddenly it was as if a spark of recognition had gone off in her head. Had she really forgotten that rule? It was impossible to think that she had.

“Then get on with the testing.” She sounded angry but was no longer screeching.

“It’s too late. Your behaviour has been too erratic and disturbed for us to continue. In accordance with the rules of space travel we will have to take you, at our earliest convenience, to the nearest space testing facility to be…independently…re-assessed. If you then pass the analysis then the incidents on board this vessel and our responses will be thoroughly investigated. 

“In accordance with the procedures we will continue with our mission to Pesbus to conduct the investigation and when that is complete we will take you straight to the Colony of Apollo in Quadrant Three. Any questions?”

She was quiet and stunned. “This has all been a misunderstanding. I can explain.”

“What explanation could rationalise your behaviour on the two occasions in sick bay necessitating sedation and the incidents that caused me to order the analysis in the first place? I’m sorry, but you should save any explanation you may have for the re-testing personnel on Apollo.

“I will send you the report detailing my order, and all the evidence we have, for you to study. It remains for me to decide where you should be kept. In your quarters under close guard or in the brig. In view of your violent behaviour and demeanour I am sending you to the brig. I will review the matter after four days.”

For the very first time since Commander Gil Grissom had met the woman, she was silent and contrite. He had difficulty reading her; did she really not know, or had she forgotten the fundamental rule about the deep space psychological analysis? It was very strange.

At his briefing the next morning he told the team the bare essentials. There were stunned silences.

“I know I suggested it to you but…honesty? I never expected her to fail the very first test. Whoever does?”

“I’ve never heard of anyone actually already on board a vessel even failing.” Warrick was pretty surprised in a laid back Warrick kind of way.

It was Nick who remembered the Adelaide. “We have a genuine reason not to meet up with Sector Commander Ecklie.

“We do indeed.” Gil grinned. “So how are you getting on, Greg, with adapting the SPS?”

“Good…we’ve been working flat out.” He looked at his colleagues. “And we should be able to run the preliminary tests tomorrow.”

“Ahead of schedule. That’s what I like to hear. Will it work?”

“Yes.” Greg was very confident.

“Right. Anything else?” He looked at his staff. “Back to work. Nick stay here with me, please.”

Yes, Sir.”

When they rest of the team had left Nick remained in his seat. Unlike Catherine who’d moved closer, he wasn’t used to any familiarity with his Commander. The men sat in confortable silence for a few moments.

“The closest Deep Space Psychological Testing facility is on Apollo.”

“Really? I have friends on the colony.”

“Oh, what I wondered was whether you wanted to take the opportunity for some shore leave with your…um…family?”

“That’d be good. I miss them all…but it would mean I would be away from the vessel for at the very least about thirty hours. It would be unfair to extend to me the courtesy when all other personnel are unable to visit their families until their tour of duty has been completed. I was prepared to wait the customary time before applying for shore leave.”

Gil smiled, it was the right answer; the young man was a diplomat and he knew if he was given the courtesy, there would be some crew who would be jealous and however much Nick Stokes was liked there could be some backlash.

“Then I will not extend you the courtesy, but if you have friends on Apollo then we will be in orbit long enough for you to visit them. I will also give the rest of the crew shore time to re-acquaint themselves with terra firma.”

“It’s always a strange sensation to stand on land after space travel…even though we have no feeling of movement aboard there is still a few minutes of re-adjustment to be made.”

“Sea legs.”

“Sea… oh yes, from sailing. An accurate analogy.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Gil was lost in his thought about Nick Stokes. Should he be suspicious about him not wanting to go and see his family? He knew that very nearly anyone else aboard would have jumped at the opportunity regardless of the back lash. Or was he just an exceptional young man who truly did believe in the diplomatic approach? He was lost in his reverie when Nick spoke to him.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought. What did you say?”

“Is that all? I need to get to the lab and help out Greg and the others.”

“Of course. Yes. Dismissed. Nick?”

“Sir?”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you’d said you did want to go to Zeus.”

“Thank you, Sir. But I don’t want to be treated with any special privileges, besides while you were…lost in thought…I thought I could contact my family and some of them could, maybe, meet me on Apollo for a quick get together.”

Gil eyebrows rose at Nick’s idea. This man was really diplomatic and resourceful even if the idea was simple and obvious. “That’s a very good idea.” 

“I thought so.”

“Right. Dismissed.”

“Sir.” And Nick was gone and left Gil pondering about Nick’s family.

End of Part Five

Part Six

“Serendipity, are you there?”

“I am always here, Sir.”

“I know; it was a joke. ‘Dipity, how many immediate family members does Stokes have?”

“He has a mother, a father, five sisters and a brother.”

“Does his father or mother have any binding unions and other off-spring?”

“No, Sir.” Gil thought about that. It was odd then if Catherine’s rumour was right that his parents had wanted Nick to bind a union.

“Have any of his siblings entered into a binding union?”

“No, Sir.”

“Ever?”

“No Sir?”

“Have any of the family been approached to enter into a binding union?”

“Yes, Sir. Nickolas Stokes.”

“But he refused?”

“No, Sir.”

“He didn’t?” Gil was surprised and annoyed with himself; why on Earth didn’t he ask Serendipity all this when Catherine told him the rumour. “Then why didn’t it go ahead?”

“The Over Lord and Council unanimously denied the request.”

“Oh. Why?”

“They had never had a binding union in their history and saw no reason to change their stance.”

“Who made the request?”

“The Council of Polymorphia.”

“In Quadrant Two?” Gil was incredulous. Q Two was the least visited and least known of all Q’s. They were self-sufficient and prosperous as far as Gil knew.

“That is correct.”

“Why? Sorry. Why did they make the request?”

Serendipity was quiet for a few moments which was unusual and meant she was searching for information that was not readily available.

“There is no recorded data about the request.”

That was odd…almost everything in the universe was recorded somewhere…of course, it could be somewhere that his MPPA 42 couldn’t access. That was unusual but not unheard of but there was normally some snippet of information or reference to be found somewhere.

“That means that a request was probably made by personal delegation.”

“That is a possibility.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome Sir.” Gil chuckled; she’d been searching the archives again for Earthisms. 

So Catherine’s rumours were only half right and it was a timely warning to him to treat them as just that – rumours – not facts. Although he could have easily found this information out there and then; but he liked to think about things and ruminate on the puzzles without having the answer given out automatically. One day his kind would be able to do nothing for themselves and everything would be run by machines. The machines would then realise and do away with human kind altogether. He laughed to himself…he bet his kind and every other kind has been saying that for eons. 

He decided to go to the labs and see how his team were working on modifying the SPS. But first he contacted security.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What is the status of Sidle?”

“Uncommunicative. She has slept and eaten but not spoken.”

“Thank you.”

He wondered along the corridors and chatted to crew as he came across them. The vessel held twenty-nine support crew who did everything from flying the bucket to cleaning. Then there was the team. These were the scientific officers of various specialties. There were eleven of them…ten if he discounted Sidle. And five of them, four now, were Investigation Officers directly accountable to him.

He watched the four through the glass panels as they worked at consoles and kept talking to each other and checking the major screen in front of them showing what Gil knew were the schematics of the Space Planet Scope.  
“How is the work progressing? He asked as he walked into the lab.

“We’re almost at the testing stage and then, hopefully, with a few tweaks it’ll be ready for the planet. I have entered the DNA sequences of the personnel who’ll go planetside…actually…I’ve entered all the crew and lab staff if we ever need to use this again, they’ll be in there already. MPC has found the genetic code of the Pesbusians so after adding that to the mix we can scan the planet and anyone who doesn’t conform to those profiles will be exposed. Of course, some may be legitimate visitors.” Greg was enthusiastic.

“We can ask how many and what species are visiting before we go down.” Gil confirmed.

“If there are humanoids that have been altered to mimic Pesbusians they will show up immediately. None of the visitors will have that specific genetic code will they?” Nick asked.

“Of course not. Only imposters, if there are any, will have both humanoid and Pesbusian coding. Have the humanoid genetics already in the SPS been updated?”

“Yes. MPC is alerting us every time a new sequence is detected.” Greg was grinning.

“Why are you so happy, Investigator Sanders?” Gil asked Greg who immediately wiped the grin from his face.

“Just happy, Sir. To be doing some useful work…”

“…are you implying you don’t have enough useful work?”

“NO! No, sir.” He swallowed and looked really nervous and around his the other three were all grinning at his discomfort. When he noticed he relaxed. “You’re joking with me.” He rolled his eyes.

“I am at this moment, but I will have to see what other useful work I can find for you.”

“Yes, Sir. Good.”

“Call me when you’re ready to do the first test. I will be interested to see how it goes.” And he left the lab with Greg heaving a sigh of relief and the other laughing. Gil was smirking to himself.

Three hours later the call came though.

“I’m on my way.”

In the lab everything was calm and all the Investigators were ready to start the experimental scan. Once the scan was started they would check the information as it came through and make adjustments as it scanned.

“Can you assure me that this scan will do no harm to the vessel and its inhabitants? I mean we normally use it as great distances not in a confined area?”

“No harm, we’ve recalibrated deliberately low fields for the test and will power up again for the planet.” Nick was confident.

“Will that alter the results?”

“No. We’ve checked that thoroughly through MPC and the calibration does not alter the results at all…let alone to any degree.”

“Good. When you’re ready.” Gil took a seat at a console but was watching the main screen in front of them.

“Three. Two. One.” Greg turned a key on three, opened a small panel on two and pressed the button on three. Immediately the screen became active and the progress of the scan was shown as it swept over the vessel. The four had their eyes trained on the screen and their fingers on their consoles as the screen showed its progress. It took ten seconds and Gil reckoned they’d all been holding their breath as it swept over the vessels and themselves…literally.

“Space hell!” Greg explained.

“What’s wrong, Greg…oh.” Nick had started and then stopped and then started again. “We’ve got a rogue reading…it’s telling us that we have a non-humanoid aboard that doesn’t match any of the crew’s genetic coding.”

“Let’s run it again and…” Greg was interrupted by Gil who’d just had one if his feelings.

“Do we know who’s given this rogue reading?”

“Not specifically…we can find the location…” Nick tapped out a few more commands and then stopped and stared at his console and then looked at the screen; all eyes followed his…

The location was shown clearly to them all.

The brig.

End of Part Six

Part Seven

“What in space hell does this mean?” Warrick murmured.

“That’s what we need to find out.”

“Find Sidle’s DNA as notified when she was posted to this vessel.” Gil ordered; although not one of them had any doubt that it would be positively identified as Sidle’s DNA but not the person in the brig. Catherine typed in the command. “Now overlay it with the DNA she has in the brig.”

There were similarities. “MPC, list the DNA characteristics that Sidle’s DNA has with the unknown DNA.” In a second there were all staring at the list; the DNA they had in common was all about appearance. The skin, hair, height, features…everything on the outside of Sidle’s body was copied on this…copy.

“MPC can you identify the DNA that has been mixed with humanoid DNA.”

There was a very short delay before the computer spoke. “The DNA is Polymorphian.”

There were three very confused faces and two for whom the news meant something. 

“Do you think that’s a coincidence, Nick?”

“No.” He didn’t betray any sign that he was surprised; any that Gil knew anyhow.

“Neither do I. I don’t believe in coincidences…certainly not of this magnitude. We have been infiltrated and for what purpose, that’s what we need to establish.”

“What’s going on here? It was Warrick who’d found his voice of the three who’d listened to Gil and Nick’s exchange.

“I don’t know the full details. Would you care to enlighten us?” He spoke directly to Nick again.

“There isn’t a lot to tell…”

“Hold on…let’s go to my briefing room. Walls have ears. Save this information and encrypt it with a new code, Greg.” He waited for a few moments while Greg did as instructed and then they followed Gil to the briefing room. 

The briefing room was specially insulated to prevent listening devises and was the safest place on the vessel.

“So, Nick, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you, Sir.” He took a few deep breaths and then began his story. “About a year ago my Lord Father and the Council of Zeus were approached by visitors from the Colony of Polymorphia. The representatives wanted to enter into an alliance with Zeus for trading purposes. Zeus is a rich source of Kauzite. The Polymorphians need Kauzite to run their power systems and it seems that their once plentiful supply was dwindling fast…although we never got to bottom of that since they don’t use that much of it…anyway.” He paused and then continued.

“The Council were quite happy to trade…or at least sell the Kauzite; there was nothing that Zeus needed from Polymorphia. But a straightforward sale was quite acceptable. But…the Polymorphian wanted to get it for free by entering into a Binding Union. They had a Leader’s daughter whom they wished to marry off to…me.

“If you don’t know a Binding Union, it’s where two countries or colonies join forces through a union…and the binding clause is that whatever happens they are a force together and will never turn against one another and share all their resources…everything really, on the understanding that progeny of the union should grow up to be the boss of the lot…” He grinned. So, in this case the Over Lord of Zeus and the Leader of Polymorphia.

“My Lord Father and the entire Council rejected the proposal. And gave a detailed brief of their decision to the Polymorphian representatives to take back to their Leader. Basically, thanks… but no thanks. We’ll sell you the Kauzite if you want it…and that was that…except for a few angry exchanges with the Leader and the Council. And all that did was cement the council’s belief that they’d made the right decision. And that’s it really. 

“But the odd thing is I have never heard of Polymorphia until we had this problem with them on Zeus…and the second time I’ve heard their name is today. Weird.”

“So you joined the Investigation team and were assigned to the Las Vegas to avoid your Colony in the wake of this diplomatic incident.” Catherine said, knowingly.

“No…no.” Nick frowned. “I joined because I wanted to work as an investigator. I had no problem at home with this Binding Union…it was me that they wanted but I never met any of them and was only on the periphery really. My Lord Father dealt with it.”

“Oh.” Catherine looked a bit sheepish and half smiled at Gil who was smirking.

“So.” Gil started. “What are we going to do about Sidle the Imposter. And, more importantly, where is the real Sidle.”

“We could be talking about a major crime here.” Catherine had regained her composure 

“You’re right. We need to interview the imposter and see what we can find out and we need to notify the station where she joined us…Europa wasn’t it?”

They all agreed it was.

“And which vessel was she on before…the Cairo? We’ll contact them and see if they can shed any light. Now the interview; is the alleged crime sufficient to warrant the use of Phenobenotryetheline?” 

Warrick took a deep intake of breath. “I think so. It could be murder. It’s certainly impersonating an officer of the Investigation Team and also she’s had access to…everything. If its secrets she was after she got a lot…as many as we’ve got anyway.”

“True. I’m with Warrick.” Catherine cast her vote. 

“I suppose it is justified…but it can alter people can’t it?” Greg was being cautious.

“Yes. Its use is strictly prohibited except in exceptional circumstances and a panel of officers not connected to the case would have to agree its use. As to the altering…the imposter is altered already.” 

“Do we need to get the doctor’s view?” Nick asked.

“That’s a good idea. Sick Bay, Dr Robbins.” Gil commanded.

“Commander?”

“Al can you come to my briefing room immediately?”

“On my way.”

When the situation had been fully explained to the doctor he pursed his lips and thought for a few moments. “I have never been in favour of using PBTE. It has been proved to be mind altering and should only be used as a last resort. Is this the last resort, has she even been interviewed yet? No. Polymorphians are exactly that are they not; they do have some ability to change and re-shape. A drug like PBTE could well destabilise her and cause her to…I don’t know what? Disintegrate?”

Greg pulled a face at the thought. Gil glanced at Nick who’d suggested asking for Al’s opinion. He was astute. He had completely missed the point with Nick Stokes. 

“Right then it seems the drug is out…at least for the time being. Let’s gather as much information as we can first and then decide the interviewing strategy. First of all. Security.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Just for my peace of my mind I want Sidle to be classed as a Type One detainee. Please be unobtrusive but ensure that the extra security measures are followed to the letter.”

“Yes, Sir.” There was something approaching awe in the voice of the security detail. The chances of guarding a type one prisoner were few and far between. 

“Greg. You get onto the Cairo and ask for movements of the real Sidle see if we can shed any light on that. Warrick get in touch with Europa and see what they have to say. Do not tell them why we’re making these enquiries. Catherine, you can have Ecklie; give him as little detail as possible but keep him in the loop. I don’t have to tell you to be secure. Al, thanks for input, as always to the point. Nick stay with me for a moment. Report back in…thirty minutes?”

They left with a renewed purpose.

Nick waited until they door had closed and spoke to Gil. “You thought I was on board just to keep a low profile…not to work and prove myself?” He was clearly annoyed.

“Not exactly. I admit to being dismissive on occasions. You have reason to be…esteemed…on your home Colony and yet you have chosen to…quite voluntarily it now seems…come aboard and chase around the universe trying to right wrongs. But your work has been good and I’ve told you and recorded that fact but perhaps I didn’t see how committed you are to the work. I apologise.”

“Accepted. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. I do have another motive though…” 

Gil waited.

“…I am ambitious and I want to start an Investigation Department on Zeus. We’re sadly lacking and I thought if I could get a good grounding with you and your team. That would be a start in the right direction…Cass 3 notwithstanding…you have the best reputation.” He smiled and it lit up his face, or so Gil thought as he realised he was looking at Nick with a completely different agenda now.

“I hear you’re a purist, Nick. But then I’ve heard other things that aren’t true.”

“Never figured you as a gossip.”

“I like to listen and filter in bits and pieces.”

“And Serendipity fills in the blanks?”

“Something like that.” Gil smirked.

“So you would like to know if I’m a purist…”

Gil would have dearly loved to find out that piece of information but Greg came in twitching excitedly followed by Catherine and Warrick.

“Sorry…but you’ve got to hear this…”

End of Part Seven

Part Eight 

Greg threw himself into a seat and took a deep breath. “I contacted the Commander…Dracip…on the SPV Cairo and asked him when he had last seen Investigator Sara Sidle…and he came back immediately and said about ten minutes ago!” Greg was triumphant at the raised eyebrows and mumbling of his colleagues although Grissom’s face betrayed nothing. 

“When I picked myself up off the floor I immediately replied and asked him not to question me at this stage…but all would be revealed later…and asked him to do an immediate DNA check on Sidle.”

“He came back a few minutes later and said that he had tested her, under duress, mind you...and that she was one hundred percent Sidle. So we actually have a cloned humanoid…”

“…or she, he, it, is truly polymorphous.” Catherine clarified.

“Right. Warrick?”

“Nothing from Europa, she came in on a commercial vessel, SC Tkhip, waited for five hours in the transit bay and joined us. SC Tkhip’s manifesto shows she boarded at…wait for it…Station Voolm.” He sighed and everyone appeared to join him. 

“That station should be shut down.” Greg opined.

“Makes too much money; so many deals are made there, legit and otherwise, that it suits everyone’s purpose to keep it open.” Catherine knew Station Voolm very well.

“So without more detailed enquiries we don’t know the route that she took to get here…but we’ve got enough to do a preliminary interview. I’ll do that with Catherine.”

Greg looked disappointed but Warrick and Nick looked neutral. 

“No time like the present. Ready? Anything else we should know?” Everyone shook their head. “After you, Investigator Willows.” Gil got up and made his way to the door and Catherine went out ahead of him.

In the brig, Sidle was now held under the highest category of detention. She was allowed to wear a one piece suit, no shoes. She no longer had any physical contact with anyone but she was fully visible at all times through the security field of her cell. 

When Gil and Catherine arrived they left their weapons and communications tools at the security point and took two seats and positioned themselves in front of the cell and Sidle. She was sitting crossed legged on the floor in front of the field.

The look she gave the two investigators was pure evil. “I’ll have your careers for this, you incompetent space whores.” She spat the words at them.

After a few minutes of sitting there saying nothing Gil looked across at Catherine and smiled. “I wonder what season it is on Polymorphia at the moment. Have you ever been?”

“No. Never travelled much in Q two. You?”

“I’ve been to Q two a number of time but never to Polymorphia.”

Although focussed on each other, out of the corner of their eyes both Gil and Catherine saw Sidle move, just minutely, at the first mention of Polymorphia but she’d recovered at the second mention.

“Have you ever served aboard the SPV Cairo?”

“No. I’ve met Commander Dracip several times though. You?”

“I’ve met him once or twice.” Gil turned and looked at Sidle. “We know. You’re Polymorphian and your outer shell is composed of the genetic code of Sara Sidle, who is, as we speak, serving on the SPV Cairo alongside Commander Dracip. Really, all I’m interested in is why you’re here. An elaborate plan with more holes than a vent. Are you going to tell us?”

“Go to space hell you’re nothing more than a stain on a bed…”

As she spoke both Gil and Catherine saw the briefest show of her true self. A perfectly round head with small protuberances, a central mouth and unlidded eyes; it was gone in the blink of their eyes.

“We will not be handing you over to the testing facility at Apollo but to the security Colony Ibfaic.” They saw the fear cross her face. Very, very, few people ever left that Colony. “Unless you chose to tell us why you did this and we could reconsider…don’t you think, Investigator Willows?”

“I would tell anyone whatever they wanted to know to avoid Ibfaic…no one ever leaves and I’ve not even met anyone who will admit to working there. All the rumours are true.”

“I heard it was worse that even the rumours.”

“Is that possible?”

“I’m sure it is. I cannot say that it has been good to meet you because plainly, it hasn’t. Your Leader will be contacted by the Council of Colonies and asked to explain his behaviour in allowing the invasion of the space and property of others. Trading will be difficult. I understand there is already a shortage of Kauzite…that shortage will, very likely, become critical.”

And there was the breakthrough.

“If I talk?”

“I will make no promises…except one. I...this vessel…will not take you to the Ibfaic Colony; but I will hand you over to the Chief Investigation Team. Now…what I tell them about your co-operation, or otherwise, will weigh heavily on their decision making and the consequences for your home colony…and there will be consequences…of that there can be no doubt. You cannot run around space impersonating security personnel…or anyone else for that matter…”

She nodded. “My colony needs Kauzite and Zeus refused a Binding Union with us…we cannot trade…we have nothing. Poor management, lazy people, debt…we are in crisis. I was sent on this mission to find out about Nick Stokes. A last resort to see if we could find out something with which we could…persuade…the Over Lord of Zeus and his Council to change their minds… After all…all of you have secrets, all of you. We were convinced we would discover Stokes’ secret.”

“And?”

“Nothing. I found nothing. He does nothing. He stays in his quarters; he does his work, he is pleasant and good…he is the most boring creature roaming this universe.”  
Both Gil and Catherine couldn’t help but smile; but then Gil remembered something Serendipity had told him.

“Why have you been using the Dream Sequencer with images of me?”

“Because I like you.” She smiled at him and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

He changed the subject. “What other plans have your people put in place to try and get a supply of Kauzite?”

“None. That I know of.”

“If you think of any, let me know. We will be taking you to the SPV Adelaide who will transport you to…wherever they see fit.”

“Not Ibfaic?” 

“No.” Gil stood up; he’d made a decision. “We’ll speak again.” He left the brig with Catherine.

“You changed your mind about Ecklie and the Adelaide.”

“It just came to me. He’s the one who will have to make the decision about what to do and where she’s sent and he’s got his fancy new vessel and nothing to do, so we will rendezvous with him. It’ll give him a whole new purpose in life.” He chuckled; he liked his new plan.

They went back to the briefing room and he called the three men to join them.

“It was all about you, Nick. She was going to try and blackmail your Lord Father into the Binding Union by finding out all about your guilty secrets.”

He looked puzzled. “I don’t…I can’t think…what secrets?”

“She couldn’t find any.” And after a few moments of silence they were all laughing.

When they’d calmed down Gil wanted to know how the SPS was functioning.

“We’ve proved it works.” Greg was feeling good.

“Shall we speed up again and get to Pesbus and get the work done there and we can go meet the Adelaide.”

“I thought we weren’t meeting the Adelaide.”

“I changed my mind they can have her…Ecklie will like being in the middle of a diplomatic fracas. Test his political skills.”

“That’s better than having her aboard for the journey back to Apollo.” Nick saw that it was good idea.

“I’ll feel better without her being aboard. It’s a bit creepy having someone who can change…you know…” Greg was obviously not keen on being around something creepy. 

“MPC, contact the Adelaide and tell them I want an urgent conference in…two hours. That should give us time to compile the report. Any questions? Back here in an hour and we’ll put it all together. Dismissed.”

They all got up except Nick who was staring at nothing. Catherine stopped and smiled at him. “Space to Nick.”

“Wha… Sorry. I’ve just thought of something.”

“Then share it.” Gil said.

“Pesbus. Don’t they have a supply and trade in Kauzite?”

As one the others realised the implication of what Nick had said.

Catherine was the first to articulate the thought. “So it could be that the xenophobic Pesbusians are not as paranoid as we thought and that they could have been infiltrated by…Polymorphians…to be exact.”

Gil looked at Nick and then called the bridge. “Sorry to change my mind but could we now get to our Pesbus orbit as quickly as our dependable old bucket will go…how long?”

There was a short delay. “Without engine problems we could do it in thirty-eight hours and three minutes.”

“That’s an order then. MPC, please offer our apologies and cancel the conference with the Adelaide…tell them we have some further enquiries to make and will make a full report and rendezvous as soon as we can after our visit to Pesbus.”

“That was a good tie-in Nick. Well done.”

“So prepare as much as we can before we get to Pesbus and hope we have a successful investigation. Dismissed.”

End of Part Eight

Part Nine

In his quarters Gil was listening to some archaic, twentieth century music by a band called Pink Floyd. He suddenly remembered something. Unfinished business.

“’Dipity?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Where is Stokes?”

“In his quarters, Sir.”

“Thank you. Do you need to do any maintenance?”

“No, Sir, I am fully functional at optimal speed.”

“Pity.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“Yes. Now close your eyes and ears and no peeping.”

“You know I cannot do that.”

“I know. Just have a rest in safety mode.”

“Yes, Sir.” There was the sigh as she did as she was asked.

“Nick?”

“Sir?”

“Where are you and what are you doing?”

“In my quarters and writing my journal.”

“Would you care to visit my quarters? We could have a drink and you could answer a question I asked earlier?”

Nick laughed. “Right. On my way.”

Nick was at his door a few minutes later and Gil gave him access.

“May I get you a drink? Synthetic beer? Synthetic coffee? Synthetic anything?”

“Multi-juice would be good…synthetic of course.” Gil ordered the drink for Nick and a beer for himself and they were delivered by his food synthesiser a few moments later

“Salut.”

“Cheers.”

“Old Earthisms. Here, settle down on a seat.” Gil pointed to the seats he had scattered around his quarters. Seats he’d acquired from here and there. Nick chose a big comfortable looking leathery seat and settled himself into it. Gil sat down in the seat next to him.

“So I guess you want the answer to the question?”

“Yes.”

“Well, like everything else you’ve heard it’s not really true.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I’m not really a purist to the exclusion of everything but my chosen desires. But I have pretty limited likes…or maybe I should say definitive likes.”

“And they are?”

“Men.” Gil was listening; his face impassive. “Humanoids…Earth descendants, almost exclusively. Older men…with grey hair.”

Gil took a drink of his beer. “With or without a beard?”

“Preferably without.”

“Beards can be shaved off.”

“That would be my preference.”

“You’d lose a bet.”

Nick laughed. “But could losing one small bet mean me winning first prize?”

“Do you demand exclusivity from your…Earth descendants?”

“No. No, but I like to think that I can be sufficient for most Earth descendants’ needs.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself aren’t you?”

“You want a shy boy?”

Gil laughed. “Touché.”

“Commander Grissom. If you are proposing, as I suspect…” Nick grinned broadly. “…a liaison of a sexual nature then I am very willing to participate. I will agree to the normal declaration that such a liaison is entirely without any influence in our working life and I would expect the same courtesy from you.”

“Of course.”

“MPC. Record my willingness to participate in a liaison with Commander Grissom free of influence of our work.”

‘Noted.’ The computer intoned. 

“MPC. Record my agreement and compliance with Investigator’s Stokes’ declaration.”

‘Noted.’ It agreed again.

“Now, Nick, come and let me introduce you to a little historical item I bet you’ve never seen before. It’s one of my dearest treasures.” Gil stood from his seat and nodded in the direction of his private sleeping quarters. Nick followed.

Nick noticed that the commander had the same quarters as everyone else. Utilitarian; fit for purpose and nothing else. Gil opened the slide door to his shower room and smiled back at Nick. He opened a drawer and took out a much worn leather box with a little clasp; it looked as if it might disintegrate at any moment. He opened it and pulled out a weapon.

“What the…” Nick said, and stepped back. “…I don’t do…”

“…calm down. This is a twentieth century relic.” He opened it out to show a thin blade on a handle. “It’s on its last legs, unfortunately. It’s a cutthroat razor. For shaving? Beards?” Gil explained to Nick’s confused face.

“You shave…your face…with that?”

“I do…it’s really why I grow my beard and then shave it off. If I shaved every day it would be soon worn out…as it is the blade is only a fraction of the depth it used to be.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No…you don’t just push it across your face like you would a shaving device you lather your face with soap…” Gil laughed at Nick’s disgusted look. “…and then shave your beard off. I tell you once you’ve experienced it you will never be satisfied with the shaving device again. You’re not convinced are you?”

“Uh-uh.” But Nick had relaxed.

“Look…” Gil took another box from his drawer and opened it up to show a small tablet of some hard white substance. He took off his tunic and then set his hands under the water, he splashed the hot water on his face and then holding the white tablet and moved it around his hands. Foam started to form in his hands and when there was a handful he spread it around his face over his beard he glanced at Nick through his mirror and Nick grinned.

He then took his cutthroat razor and sliced into his face, Nick cringed. “Man!”

“It doesn’t hurt.” Gil had bought blade down his face and then rinsed it under the water and did it again. Nick watched in silence as he shaved the beard off. Then he soaped his face again and went over it once more making sure all of his whiskers were gone. He finally rinsed off his face and wiped it and then the razor and which he wiped carefully with reverence.

“I look around when we travel for someone who could make me another one like it…though I don’t think it will ever be the same. Things just aren’t the same, even on some of the less developed colonies. Here. Feel.” He took Nick’s hand and held it to his cheek.

“It’s soft!” Nick laughed.

“Like a baby’s bottom.” They said together and laughed.

“Other places aren’t so soft.” Gil took Nick’s hand from his face and placed it on his crotch. His substantial erection could be felt through the fabric of his tunic pants.

“I got one of those to match…”

They tumbled onto Gil's cot. Not ideal, since it was built for sleeping one person. But since Gil was on top of Nick it would suffice. Nick pushed Gil back.

“We’re overdressed.” He was breathless.

“True.” Gil leaned back and pulled his boots off and his tunic pants and inner pants. He was naked.

“Nice.” Nick admired his about to be lover. He pulled his tops off and then his boots and pants.

“I could say the same thing. You want to engage the dream sequencer?”

“No.” Nick appeared to be suddenly exasperated. “Now if I am a purist then it’s about that hell space machine. We have bodies built for pleasure…why do we need to use a machine?”

“Because…it enhances the pleasure?” That was the standard blurb about the dream sequencer.

“If you’re on your own. Not when you with another being…a humanoid. Do you use it all the time?”

“Hardly ever…never, really. Serendipity watches.” He chuckled a little ironically. “And will be watching this too.”

“I thought you used it all the time, that’s why you asked.”

“I thought you might use it.”

“But you know I don’t use it.” He was accusatory but smiled as he spoke.

“I do. So just the two of us then?” Gil smiled back.

“Is that okay with you?”

“What do you think?”

End of Part Nine

Part Ten 

Gil lay back on his cot and was puzzled…among other things. He’d never been sexually submissive, more usually he was the dominant one. He was prepared to try anything once…sometimes twice.

So why was he lying here letting this young man take charge? He couldn’t quite form a coherent thought about it. His thinking blood supply was severely compromised.

Nick had asked him…

No, Nick had told him… 

To put his arms up above his head and keep them there and not to move them and that’s what he was doing. They weren’t tied; he could move them freely if he wished but he didn’t. He was desperate to touch something with his fingers. It was either Nick’s smooth hairless skin or his own cock…leaking and engorged and so hard and tight that he wanted it to burst but for that he needed to put his fingers on it…or Nick’s mouth or his fingers… Anything.

But all he was getting was Nick’s tongue. And Nick’s teeth. His lips probably. Yeah, his lips too. And his nails. The nails…

The nails were scratching along Gil's skin; they were scratching at the skin of the inside of his thighs…up and down. From above his knees to right by his balls and then up over his stomach and his flanks and over to his nipples.

But not his cock.

Gil was whimpering. At first when he heard the sound he’d looked at Nick to see why he was making the noise but it took him several moments to establish that it wasn’t Nick it was himself. He couldn’t say any words but was making little inarticulate words…they didn’t mean anything to him they were really just sounds.

With a supreme effort he lifted his head up from the pillow and looked down at Nick. Nick’s black eyes shone in the semi-darkness of his sleeping quarters…and Gil could see something in them…he tried to think of the word. Oh, yes. Fun. Nick was having fun.

 

No sooner had Nick looked at him that he’d gone down on Gil again and Gil hoped that this time it would be his cock to get the attention but it wasn’t. He was ignoring it completely. But this time Nick concentrated on his balls. He took one in his mouth and through the now tight skin of his scrotum he could feel Nick teething the ball…rolling it around his mouth with his tongue nipping at the skin and pulling at it.

Gil groaned and looked down onto the top of Nick’s head but all Gil could see was his cock…dribbling now…a line of the milky substance slowly slithering down the side of the cock.

As Nick attacked Gil’s other ball Gil found the strength to utter Nick’s name. It wasn’t exactly as he intended it to come out…it was like a whine; a child with a baritone voice. ‘Nickkkkk’, but Nick did look up at him

“Soon.” Nick said, and grinned. Gil groaned again; it was all he could do. But all Nick did was continue with his torture. It wasn’t torture. Yes, it was. No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t painful. Yes, it was. This was the sum total of Gil's thoughts. Incoherent ramblings in his own head but with this heat centred deep in his belly; his ass cheeks squeezing and his spine transmitting jolts of electricity to his extremities…he no longer had bones in his body. They were gone; all he had holding his viscera together was his skin….and even that was melting in the heat.

He would have been unable to put a time frame on what was happening to him. It seemed like hours and hours but it surely couldn’t be. All he wanted to do was come. Release. That was all he needed. Gil heard someone sobbing and tried to think who it was. It took a while but it was him. He wasn’t weeping tears he just making the sounds. 

“About ready, then?” Gil made some kind of sound and Nick grinned at him. “Just make sure you keep those arms up there…okay?”

Gil nodded, quite vigorously given his state and Nick grinned some more and then Gil really did have some difficulty remembering what had happened… exactly…

Nick was grinning at him; he remembered that and that he had to hold his arms above his head. So far so good. But the sensation? He’d never experienced anything like it and he’d wondered if the Dream Sequencer had been engaged after all. But, really, he knew it wasn’t assisting. 

Nick was grinning and had suddenly put his head down and Gil's eyes had followed Nick’s head as Nick’s…it was Nick’s mouth that had made contact with his cock… The mouth had stretched around the head of his cock and he remembered the enormous feeling of relief. Instantaneous relief.

But it hadn’t stopped there. Nick had kept going down and down and down and the further Nick’s head went down the more Gil's ass came up to meet it. Nick was swallowing his cock. Gil could feel the wet and hot mouth and feel the hot tongue swirling around the head and the shaft and then it went tight…the head of his cock was in Nick’s throat and it was hot and wet and tight and Nick pulled back and Gil thinks he probably screamed, ‘no’, just then and his ass was fully off his cot and he was arched up supported by his shoulders and top of his back and the heels of his feet as he strained not to lose contact with Nick mouth. 

He needn’t have worried because no sooner had Nick pulled back than he was back down again and then again… It was embarrassingly fast in the end. His balls were wound up so tightly that is was excruciatingly blissful or wonderfully painful…or it could have been both and the searing hot fluid ran its course up and out of Gil and down Nick’s throat.

This is the bit where Gil became hazy about what happened. The stars, the white heat behind his eyes, the light-headedness, the complete pleasure, the relief all mixed together. His next really coherent moment was seeing Nick lying almost on top of him sweating and gasping.

“You?”

“Done. You can sleep on the wet patch.”

“Yeah. I can.”

He opened his eyes as Serendipity spoke.

‘Good morning, Sir. I trust you slept well?’

“You know I did. Leave me for twenty minutes longer.” He told her as Nick opened his eyes smiled and closed them again.

‘Twenty minutes? You normally only take ten minutes, Sir.’

“Today, I’m taking twenty. No, make that twenty-two, you talk too much.”

‘Sir.’ She sighed as she powered down.

“I don’t think I’ll bother trying to access her if she’s that perky in the morning.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Gil turned his head and looked at Nick who was still cocooned with him in the single cot. Nick had opened and closed his eyes again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You didn’t miss the Dream Sequencer then?”

“The? Never heard of it.”

“I must say that last night was one of the best sexual couplings I’ve ever had.”

“I aim to please. My Esteemed Lord Mother sent me to a…an establishment to be grounded in the rules of pleasure. She decided that all of us should have training in the arts…all arts to make us better…more rounded people.”

“Your Lord Mother is obviously a very worthy woman.”

“She is. Don’t ever tell my Lord Father that I said so, but of course she is the power within the family and the council.”

Gil chuckled softly. “I can believe that.”

“I must go and get ready for work. Pesbus today.” He pulled away and almost fell out of the cot, Gil's arm shot out to steady him. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“It would suit our purposes better if you had a larger cot.”

“Our purposes?”

“You think that last night was the only night?”

“No, I’m under no allusions that you, Investigator Stokes, will be sharing my cot…often.”

“That’s what I thought. I would kiss you but my mouth tastes as if I licked the ass of a space monkey.” He kissed the forehead of his Commander.

“Are you calling me…”

“Never. Sir.” He pulled on his tunic and pants, grinned, and was gone.

Gil lay there for a few minutes and then spoke. “Come on, I know you’re dying to ask.”

‘I did not need to ask, Sir. Your pleasure was evident. I am very pleased you have chosen him he will be a very attentive lover.’

“That is your considered opinion?”

‘It is.’

“Requisition a bigger cot for my sleeping quarters…and ‘Dipity?”

‘Sir?’

“He definitely didn’t use the Dream Sequencer did he?”

‘No sir, he did not. He does not believe in it.’

Gil smiled. For a machine she had a dirty little mind.

End of Part Ten

Part Eleven

Gil was almost surprised to see his unshaven face in his mirror. Then he recalled showing Nick the razor. He smiled at the memory. Then looked at his face more closely. He didn’t look too bad for being cooped up for most of his life in one rust bucket or another. As he often did, he wondered what it would be like to live in a wide open place on a planet with clean air and bright unpolluted skies. He wondered if there was even one left. He took a couple of deep breaths and remembered his beard. 

“’Dipity? Who wins the bet for my beard?”

‘When you appear at the briefing room it will be Investigator Sanders.’

“You’re not mentioning the time it was shaved off then?”

‘No, Sir. Is this a moral dilemma?’

“No, it’s a reasonable assumption that I would shave when I get up in the morning.”

‘That is what I thought.’

“You don’t think, you process.”

‘Very successfully, Sir.’

“I’ll give you that.”

Twenty minutes later Gil was making his way to the briefing room when he was called from behind. 

“Commander Grissom.”

“Good morning, Investigator Willows.”

“I trust you had a good evening.” Her smirk stretched half way across the quadrant.

“Does everybody know?”

“Of course. Well?”

“I had a good evening.” He was trying to look and sound as non-committal as he possibly could.

“Looks and sounds like it.” He failed then. 

In the briefing room the atmosphere seemed normal although Nick grinned his welcome to Gil and then studiously avoided any further eye contact. After discussing their general status and their upcoming meeting with Ecklie to hand over their prisoner they set about planning their scan of Pesbus.

They would scan as soon as they were in the appropriate orbit and see what it showed and if, as they now suspected, there were imposters that they could identify then they would plan with the Pesbusians own Council how to expose and arrest them.

In the event there were five that showed up like a veritable nuclear storm on the scan. They were, unfortunately, at the heart of the Council.

Because of this Gil took the unprecedented move of contacting the Council leader in his private quarters after he had retired. The move didn't go well until Gil almost shouted him down to say that they had found imposters, that they knew who they were and that they were at the heart of the Council. 

Gil explained, quite patiently what they had done and in the process how they had exposed Sara Sidle on board their own vessel. When the Leader had calmed down sufficiently he did concede that he, and others, had noticed some odd behaviours from the Council members involved and so Gil's explanation was easier for him to accept. They too had been approached by, and had rebuffed, the Polymorphians. Interestingly, all five members identified as imposters had been to a Trade Symposium some months before. 

They agreed a plan and the next day Gil sent Willows, Brown, Stokes and Sanders to the planet with their own security detail. The Leader had assembled his own security and the five imposters were arrested immediately after a portable scanner easily exposed the imposters to the remainder of the Council. 

The prisoners, in exchange for their lives, (because the Pesbusians would have executed them that very day) revealed that the Pesbusians they had used were still alive and being held captive on Colony Snaissadrac; a lawless place, but not quite in the same league as Station Voolm.

It was only because of this information that the remaining Pesbus Council agreed to release the imposters into the custody of Commander Grissom aboard the SPV Las Vegas, on his personal assurance that they would be dealt with most severely. As would the Council of Polymorphia.

Within the day the evidence had been collected, collated and reported. The Pesbus captives had been freed and were on their way home and the Polymorphians from the Las Vegas, Pesbus and Snaissadrac would all be delivered to the SPV Adelaide. A Quadrant Court would be assembled and they would be tried. Maybe if they were lucky they wouldn’t end up on Ibfaic.

With their journey well underway to rendezvous with the Adelaide Gil finally went to his quarters to rest. He was shocked when he walked into his sleeping quarters and found the bigger cot…there was barely room to move around it. But he sat on it and it was confortable.

‘Is the bed to your satisfaction, Sir?’

“Yes, thank you. Where’s Stokes?”

‘In the corridor outside your quarters.’ As she spoke the buzzer sounded. Gil smiled and pressed for the door to open. He stood at the entrance to his sleeping quarters, leaning on the side of the door and could see Nick standing, mirroring his exact position, by his main door. Nick spoke first.

“Need a shave?”

Gil felt his chin. “Yes.”

“Greg’s in the mess spending his winnings. Hodges is commiserating with himself at missing out again. Serendipity tells you doesn’t she?”

“Of course. Since we all have access to the same technologies it often amazes me that people fail to realise the extent to which these machines rule and shape our lives.”

“Even as I walked back to my quarters this morning everyone knew about us. Was there betting on that?”

“I don’t know. ‘Dipity; were there bets on Stokes and I undertaking a sexual liaison, or any other bets?”

‘No, Sir. You and Investigator Willows and Brown. Stokes with Willows and Sanders.’

“I’m surprised there’s not more.”

‘There are eighty-one outstanding wagers among the crew for many different scenarios. But you and your actions are the most wagered for and against. Thirty-eight relate to you alone.’

Nick laughed. “You’re a popular man.”

“I’m a virtual non-entity, Nick. Everyone’s just bored with their routine.”

“You’re not a non-entity. You’re highly regarded among all of your investigators and crew.”

“Then they’re even more bored then I thought. Are you staying there or coming in?” Gil wasn’t going to discuss his standing among the crew any more.

“Am I invited in?”

Gil smiled. “You are. Look.” He turned to look back into his sleeping quarters and Nick joined him by the door.

“Tight.”

“It seems odd that sexual activity is rampant aboard all vessels throughout all the quadrants and yet without exception sleeping quarters are designed to accommodate only one person comfortably.”

“Because the designers are being literal.”

“Literal? Ah, you mean they are designed for sleep and not sex?”

“They think that everyone who is sexually active…”

“…like all the personnel in the service?”

“Exactly. That everyone always uses the Dream Sequencing suites for sexual activities and we all know how big they are…orgies are commonplace.”

“Not on the Vegas, I understand.”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

Their conversation petered out and they both stood looking at the new cot. After a minute or so, Gil put his arm up and around Nick’s shoulders and pulled him to him.

“Maybe we could have our own orgy…just the two of us. You could teach me the technique of your deep throating…”

Gil kissed him then and remembered sometime later that that was the moment when he thought that he’d keep Nick aboard the SPV Las Vegas for as long as he possibly could.

The End


End file.
